


Red: My Heart Beats For U

by reddie_loves



Series: It Fandom Week 2018 [4]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bad Flirting, Bad Poetry, Bad Puns, Cheek Kisses, Eddie's flustered, Fluff, I Love You, M/M, Poetry, Richie tries to be sweet, is that a thing to tag, these two are cute okay, two boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 08:15:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15837333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddie_loves/pseuds/reddie_loves
Summary: Richie writes what's supposed to be a sweet poem for Eddie.Featuring bad science puns that I looked up on Google.





	Red: My Heart Beats For U

Eddie scampers out the front door of his house, barely listening to his mother’s shouts of keeping safe. He doesn’t bother to respond anymore. Picking up his bike from its spot in the yard near the side of his house, he walks it to the sidewalk.

Richie is waiting for him, standing half on, half off his bike and looking rather awkward but grinning at him nonetheless. He returns it. Smiling around Richie is something that often happens without him having to think about it.

“Top ‘ah the mornin’ to ya, Eds!” He greets exburently. Eddie laughs and glances down at his shoes to hide his blush. 

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie glares.

“But you’re still smiling, Eddie my love!” he says. Eddie gets redder at the name.

And he’s right, but how can Eddie be to blame? He’s constantly feeling warm around him, like his body sees Richie and instinctively lights up. It’s like everything that Richie says to him leaves him a blushing mess and he doesn’t know how to act normal. 

Eddie swings a leg over his bike and sets off, leaving the other boy in the dust to bitch about his ‘head start’ and follow on his heels to school. Same morning every morning. 

\---

Eddie swings open his locker and goes to grab his notebooks for the next two classes when he notices a piece of paper sitting on top of the stack of textbooks. He frowns, picking it up and unfolding to examine. It’s normal printer paper, save for the hand-drawn uneven border of hearts in red marker that show through to the opposite side. 

He turns it over to find a few lines written in black pen. 

**Eds’ cheeks are red**

**His shirt yesterday was blue**

**I love everything about u**

**Especially your smile when you tell me to shut up**

**I should of asked Ben for help**

**I can’t rhyme**

**But my dick will make up for that**

**You know what else is red ;)**

**It’s my heart that beats only for u**

**Eds is my favorite (don’t tell the others)**

Eddie snorts at the bad attempt at writing a caring poem, but feels his cheeks heating up regardless because of the mention of his dick. 

He doesn’t let himself think of that too long or else… something might happen that he doesn’t want to.

Richie’s poem stays in his mind until he sees him again in their shared fourth period class, Chemistry. Surprisingly, Richie is sitting in his seat already when Eddie arrives. He frowns but says hi anyways. He’s usually early, Richie tending to be the one sliding in right before the door can be slammed in his face. 

He voices his thoughts by commenting, “You’re early, Trashmouth.”

Richie smiles over at him sweetly, a stark difference to his next statement. “That’s not what your mom said last night, ‘cause I ain’t no man to finish befo-”

“Beep beep!” Eddie’s face flushes bright red and he sits down, quickly turning towards the board where the teacher has begun speaking, ignoring the snickers coming from the boy beside him. 

Too late to talk about what was in his locker now even if he wanted to - which he definitely does not. Richie would tease him endlessly and call his shyness about the situation cute, and if Eddie was one thing it wasn’t cute. 

He’s able to focus for about fifteen minutes before there’s a flash of movement from his right and something’s being placed on his desk. A glance down tells him it’s another note. Eddie feels a bit like scoffing - passing notes? What is this, fifth grade? - but there’s still curiosity. 

He checks to see if the teacher would notice him if he opened it, and she’s writing something on the board. Good. Without sparing a glance at Richie he opens it up. 

It’s a ripped bit of notebook paper with no embellishments this time. 

**We’re sitting in this class together, you know what that means?**  
**We got chemistry.**

Eddie turns his head and eyes Richie, raising an eyebrow and mouthing, “Really?”. He isn’t amused at the terrible and cliche line, but the other boy is staring straight ahead with a smirk on his lips, pretending to be absorbed in the lesson. Eddie is suddenly staring at his lips now, which look so nice even showing his cockiness. 

Why does Richie have this effect on him? Damn hormones.

Not even ten minutes later there’s another on his desk. 

**Chemists do it on the table… periodically.**

He actually wants to laugh at that, but catches himself before he can give Richie the satisfaction. The smile and half-giggle that escapes must not go unnoticed by Richie, however, as the next one comes even quicker.

**The name’s Bond. Covalent Bond.**

The bell rings. Eddie picks up his backpack and stuffs the notes in a smaller pocket before anyone can see them. He and Richie walk out of the classroom together. 

“You like ‘em?” He waggles his eyebrows. Eddie playfully shoves him and rolls his eyes. 

“Not a chance.”

“But Edsss, you’re adorable!” Richie reaches over to pinch his cheeks but Eddie swats his hand away. 

“They’re actually terrible, for your information,” he clips, turning on his left heel to another hallway, “and don’t distract me in class!” 

Richie’s quiet for a moment and Eddie can tell it’s killing him. He bursts after a moment, blurting, “How did you like the poem?” His gaze is everywhere but Eddie as if he’s afraid of being ridiculed, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Well now he needs to be serious with the Trashmouth instead of make a joke, something that usually isn’t up to Eddie. Seeing Richie nervous about his response leaves Eddie determined to make him feel okay about it, even if it was pretty bad - but bad in a silly, Richie kind of way. 

He looks over to him and mulls over what to say. They step onto the stairway. Deciding, he soothes, “I liked it, it was a nice thing to be surprised with.” 

The calm sentiment clearly shocks Richie and he’s finally able to look over at him. His wide blue eyes are magnified by his ridiculous glasses and eyebrows halfway up his forehead, threatening to disappear under his frizzy curls. He doesn’t break the new eye contact even as he almost gets shoved down the stairs. 

He splutters, “Yo-you did?”

Eddie rolls his eyes good-naturedly and offers up a grin. “Of course, how could I hate anything from my amazing boyfriend?”

Richie chuckles, all the previous nerves visibly leaving his features. “How am I ever going to get used to that title?” 

“Maybe you should use it more.”

“Ooh, Eddie Spaghetti gets off a good one!” Richie cries, smacking a sloppy wet kiss to his cheek. 

“Ew,” Eddie shrieks, “I take it back!” He wipes the spit off with the back of his sleeve. 

“But you love me,” Richie teases. And that makes Eddie’s brain stop, and he feels like freezing in the middle of the crowded hallway. 

It’s a bit of a stretch. Neither of them have said it before - sure, as friends, and Richie has called him ‘my love’ before, but those were different times. Now they’re dating. Before Richie can get too worked up and take it back he relaxes. 

“Yeah, I do” he smiles. “I love you.” 

Richie’s eyes shine at the admittance. “Can I pull you into a closet? I want to kiss more than your cheek.” 

“Oh beep fucking beep!” Eddie yells, trying to seem upset but failing. Instead both boys are laughing so hard they feel like gasping. 

“... Hey Eds?”

“Don’t call me that.” 

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> That poem was the very last thing I wrote because I had to make it Richie-level awful, ya know. Good thing I'm not a poet in the first place. Also what is an ending.


End file.
